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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29476089">Not Quite Like the Stories</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaraJaye/pseuds/SaraJaye'>SaraJaye</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Cellars, Crushes, F/F, Fear Hugs, Ghosts, Haunted Houses, Investigations, Non-graphic injuries, Romantic Tension, broken glass, this is no Scooby-Doo-esque adventure folks</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 22:09:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,096</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29476089</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaraJaye/pseuds/SaraJaye</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Lady Rhea sends the Blue Lions to investigate a manor for ghosts. The results are not quite what Ingrid expected, in more ways than one.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ingrid Brandl Galatea/Mercedes von Martritz</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Femslash February, Trope Bingo: Round Sixteen</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Not Quite Like the Stories</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Their mission this month was to investigate an abandoned manor rumored to be haunted, and frankly, Ingrid didn't know what to make of it. Felix, of course, wouldn't shut up about how only idiots believed in ghosts until Ashe started to panic, and instantly he shut up and offered to stay by his side. Dimitri was putting up quite a brave front, but nonetheless thanked Dedue and Flayn when they offered to hold his hands.</p><p>"We'll take the library," Annette had volunteered, grabbing Sylvain's hand. Sylvain, who one imagined would leap for joy that it was the girl's idea to go with him, looked surprised before putting on his usual "easy" smile.</p><p>"If you get scared, I'll gladly carry you," he'd said. Annette rolled her eyes, dragging him along with the strength of someone three times her size. The professor smiled.</p><p>"I'll go with them to <i>supervise</i>," he'd said.</p><p>This left Ingrid with Mercedes, who of course was over the moon. It still surprised her that someone as wholesome and angelic as Mercedes could be so obsessed with this stuff. Ingrid could take it or leave it, but when she, Felix, Dimitri, and Sylvain were little Felix would cry and cling to the nearest person while Sylvain would act bored and Dimitri would try to reassure everyone ghosts weren't real.</p><p>"You don't really think we'll find anything, do you? Aside from old weapons or papers or junk?" she asked. Mercedes shrugged.</p><p>"Probably not, but it's still fun to imagine!" she said. "So, where should we look first?" The place was huge, the library and the bedrooms were only a small part of it. The professor had told them multiple times to bring food and other supplies in case the mission went more than a day, which it probably would.</p><p>"No one's claimed the cellar," Ingrid said. "We might as well try there first, ghosts like drafty underground places like that. Er, so I've heard." She'd never really believed in ghosts, the closest she'd ever been to one was Glenn talking to her in her dreams. And, well, those were just dreams.</p><p>"Not necessarily, their favorite spots tend to be attics or libraries," Mercedes said. "But I've read a few stories of ghosts in cellars, so it's as good a place to start as any. Come on." She took Ingrid's hand, causing a strange spark of <i>something</i> to course through her fingers. Probably just nerves, ghosts or no ghosts this <i>was</i> a pretty foreboding place.</p><p> </p><p>They followed a long, rickety staircase down to the cellar, one careful step at a time. It was a big, drafty place with wall-to-wall shelving. One shelf was practically empty save for a few books and a wooden box, while the other was packed with old jars of what Ingrid guessed were pickled vegetables or preserves. The glass was dusty and the labels were worn down to the point of illegibility.</p><p>"This reminds me of the cellar in the church that raised me," Mercedes said. "The jars, anyway. When I was young I would help the cooks make preserves, and we'd have enough to last us through the winter." Mercedes always sounded so happy whenever she talked about that church, and Ingrid tried not to think about <i>why</i> she no longer lived there.</p><p>"Whenever Galatea's lands could get decent crops, our servants would make us a few jars," she said. "But we usually kept pickled vegetables, or herring, since-"</p><p>A sudden gust of cold wind followed by a rattling sound cut her off, and despite usually being able to keep calm in such situations Ingrid immediately grasped Mercedes' arm, pressing close to her. The rattling continued, both of them only realizing what it was when one of the jars slid off the shelf and broke into a million pieces. The stale-sweet scent of old peach preserves filled the area.</p><p>"Maybe we'd better close the window before that happens again," Mercedes suggested. "Um, Ingrid...?"</p><p>"Oh! Sorry about that." She let go of the other woman's arm, her cheeks flushed. But when she went to shut the window, she realized it had been that way all along. It wasn't broken, either, not even a single crack. <i>Maybe it came through the walls, old rocks and wood can crumble and splinter.</i> But their inspection turned up nothing. For all the mess in the cellar, it was the most well-preserved part of the manor.</p><p>"Well, it's underground, so it's not like wind or rain can damage it," she muttered. Mercedes's eyes lit up.</p><p>"Then you <i>know</i> what that means! We've found something!" She dug in her pack. "Now, where did I put that flour..."</p><p>"You carry flour around?" Ingrid couldn't help smiling. "You really <i>are</i> into this stuff. But I don't think-"</p><p>Another gust of wind, one of the shelves rocking back and forth for several moments, books falling onto the floor one by one. This time Mercedes was the one to grab hold of Ingrid, her flour forgotten, a keening wail filling the air. <i>No, wait, that's Sylvain.</i> No doubt he'd tried to get cozy with Annette and the professor had pulled his ear. But he cried out again and this time she was worried.</p><p><i>But the professor and Annette are there with him,</i> she reminded herself as the cellar finally settled down again.</p><p>"Someone's definitely here with us."</p><p>"Yes," Mercedes whispered, "I wonder if they're angry at us for poking around...or not saving that jar of preserves from breaking."</p><p>"Should we stop? Then again, we were told to report any ghosts, so maybe we better try to-" Ingrid blinked. "I mean-I'm sure it's just a coincidence!" Ghosts couldn't exist, otherwise her younger self was a big liar who'd just said that so Felix would stop crying. <i>But back then we weren't exploring abandoned cellars,</i> she reminded herself.</p><p>"Then what <i>could</i> have caused all of that?" Mercedes asked, finding her little pouch of flour and sprinkling it onto the floor. It blew away before anything or anyone could make a single footprint. "Oh, dear..."</p><p>There was a ghost in that cellar, Ingrid was sure of it. They'd checked every inch for cracks, there was no way any wind could be getting in.</p><p>"Maybe we should look again?" she said aloud-just as another jar fell off the top shelf, almost as if it was <i>thrown</i> this time. They ducked just in time to avoid being hit by shards of glass and splattered with...tomato juice? Berry jam? The smell was more difficult to distinguish this time, but it was definitely red.</p><p>"Maybe we better go report to the others," she said, pulling closer to Mercedes. Her warmth was so reassuring right now, the familiar scent of her favorite perfume, Mercedes' gloved hands on her shoulders...one of those hands stroked the length of her braid, and Ingrid blushed. <i>This...this feels nice.</i></p><p>The sound of Dimitri swearing broke through the unusual reverie, and she and Mercedes jumped back.</p><p>"Did...did his highness just..."</p><p>"Maybe we better go check up on them!" Ingrid said, grabbing Mercedes' hand as they fled the cellar. In the kitchen area leading to the cellar, Dimitri was on the floor gripping his knee, a copper pot lying upside-down on the floor beside him. Mercedes let go of Ingrid's hand to go to his side.</p><p>"What happened?" Dedue gestured around the room, towards other pots, pans, and cooking utensils lying where they shouldn't.</p><p>"There wasn't even a single hint of wind. Suddenly everything fell, and that pot made a beeline for his highness," he said, frowning sharply. Mercedes was casting a healing spell on Dimitri's knee, wrapping a bandage around it, and moments later Flayn came out from under a table, smiling sheepishly.</p><p>"I was not scared," she lied. "I was simply hiding where I would be safe from flying projectiles. My brother would not be happy if I allowed myself to get hurt." At that moment, Annette and the professor wandered in, Sylvain draped over the professor's shoulder and favoring his left foot. Ashe and Felix followed, Felix paler than usual as he clutched Ashe's hand.</p><p>"Something pushed me off a stepladder when I was trying to grab some old diary," Sylvain groaned.</p><p>"We got locked in the closet," Ashe said. "Felix had to cut the doorknob off to get us out." Felix shook his head, glaring at his bent dagger.</p><p>"This place is definitely haunted. Let's get the hell out of here and tell Lady Rhea so we can order an exorcism of this crap shack," he snapped. The professor nodded, frowning towards Dimitri.</p><p>"It doesn't feel safe here. Are the rest of you okay?"</p><p>"We're fine," Ingrid said. "But Felix is right, Mercedes and I had...an interesting experience in the cellar." She paused. "That is-"</p><p>"We heard," Sylvain said. "The jars crashing, that is. It didn't cut you?" Mercedes shook her head, now she was sitting him down on a chair to fix his ankle.</p><p>"They fell at our feet. We didn't bother trying to clean anything up," she said. "Should we have?"</p><p>"Who cares? I wanna get out of here, even all the cool stuff in the library isn't worth sticking around for," Annette muttered. Ingrid tried not to giggle, Annette and Sylvain's packs were full to bursting and it looked like the professor had taken a few things, too.</p><p>But she couldn't wait to get out of there, either, and not just because of the ghost.</p><p> </p><p>It seemed to take forever to find their way out of the manor, or maybe they were just moving slowly in case the ghosts were following them. There <i>were</i> ghosts, unless Lady Rhea could come up with a better explanation there was nothing else. Sylvain was still leaning on the professor, Flayn was riding on Dedue's back, Annette on Dimitri's, Ashe was leaning against Felix, and Mercedes was <i>finally</i> back at Ingrid's side.</p><p>"This was the first time I've ever seen...well, <i>heard</i> a real ghost," Mercedes sighed. "It was pretty exciting, but I think I like reading about them in stories better." She took Ingrid's hand, and Ingrid's heart did a somersault. Just like it had when she and Mercedes had clung to each other in the cellar. Or even when they held hands on the way down.</p><p><i>And the last few times we've had tea together,</i> she realized. She hadn't given any of it much thought, but now the feelings she didn't even realize she'd been having were...not necessarily staring her in the face, but very much there.</p><p>Without thinking, she leaned closer to Mercedes, lacing their fingers together. Mercedes smiled and undid her shawl, draping half of it over Ingrid's shoulders.</p><p>"Here. We can't have you catching a cold," she said, and Ingrid let out a soft squeak more appropriate to a flustered schoolgirl than an aspiring knight.</p><p>"Thank you." She swallowed. "And...yeah, I'll stick to stories myself from now on. That was too scary for my liking! Especially the jar flying at us...I guess we really upset whoever was still hanging around there." Mercedes nodded, her face sympathetic.</p><p>"I'm sure Lady Rhea will figure out what to do about this," she murmured.</p><p>"Yeah..." Ingrid closed her eyes. "Thanks for being there with me, though. I mean...I don't <i>think</i> I scare easily, but that cellar was just-the cold, the flying jar, the books, people getting hurt? I don't think I could've handled being down there alone and hearing all that happening."</p><p>Mercedes drew her closer, and Ingrid reflexively rested her head on her shoulder.</p><p>"I was scared, too. That it could've been <i>worse</i> than a ghost, that someone alive was coming after us," she admitted.</p><p>"If it was, I would have protected you in a heartbeat," Ingrid said, and even in the dark she could almost swear she saw Mercedes <i>blushing.</i></p><p>"Ingrid..."</p><p>"And not just because it's what a knight does, either." They were at the gates now, where they'd tied their horses for safety; Ingrid's mount whickered softly and nosed her hand, and Ingrid mounted. "Here, get in back of me." Mercedes, still blushing, mounted behind her and wrapped her arms around her shoulders. The scent of lavender filled Ingrid's nostrils, and she sighed.</p><p>"You're so warm," Mercedes murmured. "You make me feel very safe, Ingrid." And that was it, the feelings were officially on the surface, and she didn't even need to ask or ponder whether or not Mercedes returned them.</p><p>She laid one of her hands over the older woman's, and they rode back to the monastery in comfortable silence.</p>
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